by Lisa Gillis
He hung up to find Mariss looking at him inquiringly.
“This stupid phone and its priority messaging. This morning I was looking for another missed message and found J.J.’s. He called more than a week ago. And then again a few days ago.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief and disappointment. And although he knew the disappointment wasn’t directed at him, he felt like he’d failed her. They’d been looking for their son for three months, and he’d fallen into their hands, only to be dropped.
“Oh my God.” She sank to the chair at the side of his bed. “What if he thinks we’re mad?”
“He’ll call back, honey.” Jack assured. “I need out of here though. I have some things to take care of. I need to talk with James.”
“I’ll call James,” she offered. “Jack, please. Stay overnight like your doctor said.”
“I need to tell you something, Mariss.”
Chapter 44
Hit The Road Jack Junior
“There you go, kid. She survived the trip just fine.”
The trucker helps me with the bungee cords keeping my bike in place and then I roll it down the ramp from the trailer to the parking lot.
“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.”
“How about I buy you dinner.” I offer. Because it is after all, a relief that not only my bike made it in one piece, but also that I’m not hacked up in little pieces in the woods on the side of the road—‘Hitcher’ movies and all. I owe the guy dinner for being cool enough to drive me this far.
“Whatever, kid. Dinner’s the word.”
I have a hamburger, fries, a salad, and sweet tea, and am strangely reminded of the meal Sash and I had in L.A. When I pay our bill with the debit card, I contemplate again the name on the front as I scrawl an illegible signature because I’m not about to write Patki.
I shake the trucker’s hand and shrug on the backpack and guitar case.
I use the card again to gas up, mentally keeping a tab in my head of my remaining balance in her account.
This morning I hadn’t pulled money from an ATM because I was anxious to put distance between Detroit and me. And in the café, I hadn’t made a withdrawal because I didn’t want to carry a bunch of cash with me in some stranger’s truck.
But now, sick of having to see the name Patki, I withdraw the first four hundred of my money.
It’s odd when I try to work it into the scheme of things that her married name is on the card and she’d never tried to hide it. I’m not sure what it means. Lost in those thoughts, I wander the aisles of the truck stop.
I’d acted as if I had a working phone, fake texting a few times to give the illusion to my Good Samaritan that I really did send his license plate and information to my family.
The truth was the charger was still plugged into the outlet by Sash’s bed, overlooked in my hasty exit. I’d first noticed the dead battery at the café where I’d thawed out with coffee. So I stand before a carousal of various phone chargers. I pick one up and then realize I could be home in eight hours.
Why loiter here in a truck stop because I can’t get a motel, when I could be inside my own house before June and Zoë wake up? With that thought, I stop before the toys and begin randomly picking up things that my sisters will like.
Chapter 45
EM and T
“Emma? Emma Dodge!” Mariss raged and then tried to calm down at least visibly.
She didn’t need to upset Jack, and she didn’t want to end up with stress-induced cardiomyopathy herself!
And then it hit her. That’s why Jack was lying in a hospital bed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the joy of finally hearing their son’s voice. It was because Emmajesty had managed to sign their son to the sleazy label she worked for!
“Now you see why I need to get out of here? I need to get Jewelstone’s lawyers on this. If J.J. doesn’t call by morning, I’m walking out, Mariss.”
“No! Didn’t you hear the doctor? This can become a serious thing if you don’t let your heart heal. You have to finish whatever that stuff is they’re giving you.” She gestured to the IV bag. “He’s going to call.” Now she was the one seeking to convince him. “Maybe his phone is dead. Or his minutes ran out if it’s one of those drugstore phones.”
They’d already called the cell number he’d had since middle school, but she texted it now for good measure. Setting the phone aside, she bent, kissing Jack and then settled in the foldout bed.
Chapter 46
Gate Police
Residents and Authorized Guests
Only
The night is long. The drive is okay. A little cold for a couple of hours and then the front gives way to the southern weather I remember well. My thoughts wear me down. With only the illumination of the headlights on yellow stripes, Sash monopolizes my mind.
Although I’m excited to be almost home, to be so close to seeing my family, I’m missing Sash something crazy.
A pink sunrise is just beginning to paint the skyline when I merge off the interstate onto the exit that will take me home. My heart begins to pound. I know my parents are pissed, but unlike any other time, that awareness doesn’t cause me to dread the moment I see them.
My stomach growls when I pass trademark yellow arches glowing in the dawn, but I don’t stop. Instead, I throttle a little more gas after taking my next turn.
Suburbia gives way to semi suburbia, and a few miles later, I slow to a stop before an iron gate. My gloves hinder me some as I punch in the main code and then add the extra four digits assigned to our family.
“Hey!”
As the gate begins to slide open, I hear the summons and subsequently the gate halts.
“Hi, sir.” The security guard is hurrying toward me. “Do you mind if I ask who you’re visiting?”
Continuing to balance the weight of the bike on my stiff legs, I flip my visor up. “I live here.” And because I don’t recognize this particular guy or the name on the security badge, I add, “Tristan Jack Loren, sir.”
“Yeah, I saw your code when you put it in. But your license plate didn’t clear. It’s not registered with the family’s.”
“I’ve been away awhile, and it’s new.”
“Could I see your driver’s license?”
“Sure.”
Fuck this. I get it. It’s cool to know our family is protected because he’s cautious. But I’m so close, and I just want to be there, see my Mom, Dad, and sisters’ faces. Besides, I have to piss like a racehorse. I could use the voice my friend Todd uses and stare the guy down like a bug until he lets me through. But I roll to the side and sling my bags to the ground.
Debarking, I kneel, and then realizing the guy might think I’m digging out a gun or something, I converse as I dig to the bottom of my backpack. “My license is in the pocket of my laundry. It’s going to take a minute.” Actually, my license is hidden well, zipped up in the pocket of some cargo shorts I’d never worn while away.
Away from prying eyes. Away from Sash’s eyes…
Damn I feel like a dick because until it came out in a fight, I’d never told her my name.
And then I remember the fight. Her secret is way worse. It cuts me anew.
“Here.” I hold the square of laminated plastic up.
Switching his penlight on, he studies it. It’s light enough now I guess he can recognize my features compared to the picture because he lets me through with an apologetic monologue.
I take the first curve and then the next, working my way around to the cul-de-sac our home occupies. The automatic yard and porch lights have not yet had enough daylight to their artificial eye to switch off. Their familiar glow gives me warm fuzzies all over.
The house is still dark otherwise. If anyone is awake yet, it’s only my sisters in front of the den tv. They never turn the lights on. None of the bedrooms overlooks the front. But part of the kitchen does, and that window is black.
I don’t have a garage opener, so I park the bike behind the area my unseen
car normally occupies inside.
I’m tempted to leave my bags so I can sprint the short distance to the front door, but I square my shoulders and begin the walk.
After punching the entry code in, I step into the front hallway and my shin is assaulted by Fredo while I punch the alarm code in. Fredo is yowling continuously as he rubs against my jeans, and I let my guitar and backpack slide to the floor to pick him up.
“You miss me, or you just wanting breakfast?” I scratch him between the ears as I walk.
The smell of the house is familiar. Orange and vanilla. My mom has a thing for candles of those flavors and our house has had that scent for as long as I remember. The hall empties into the den where I find no little girls watching Disney Channel.
In the guest bathroom, I bend enough to let Fredo drop and then endure him winding around my ankles as I piss.
My stomach lets out another growl, and the feline is for sure hungry if his continuous howl is any indication. I detour to the kitchen, grab one of his fancy cat meals, and then peel the top off. Embarrassingly enough, my stomach rumbles again as my nose takes in the scent.
Fredo attacks the food like it’s been a day since he last ate. I grab a banana from the wire fruit basket hanging above the island and excitedly head down the hall housing the bedrooms.
The door to my room is closed, and I pass it up, coming to a stop in front of June and Zoë’s playroom. A nightlight illuminates their many treasures, but they’re not in front of the television there, either. The next room is their bedroom and nonplussed, I freeze in the doorframe when I find it empty and their beds made.
Ramming the last of the banana in my mouth, I rush to the end of the hall. As I start down the mini hallway connecting the master bedroom to the main hallway, I see the door to this room is wide open.
Sure enough, I find myself standing in an empty room, staring at a neatly made bed.
I rack my brain, trying to remember over the summer mention of a November vacation or tour, but I’m at a loss. Is it even a school holiday?
By this time, Fredo has eaten and caught up with me. I kneel, picking him up and head back to the entry hall. Dropping the cat to the bench on the hall tree, I grab my bags and go to my room. The smell when I open the door is slightly different from the rest of the house, an indication it’s been closed up for a while.
After setting my guitar aside, I unzip the backpack. My old phone is in the same pocket my license had been in until showing it to the security guard at the gate. Hooking the phone to its charger, I cross the room and plug it into the outlet above my desk. Standing for a second, I’m lost in the familiarity of the moment.
Going back to the bed, I grab my tablet. While I’m waiting on my phone to power up, I set it on my desk to charge, next to my laptop, directly in front of the keyboard and larger screen of my gaming system.
The glow of my cell phone screen summons, and I grab it. Dozens of notifications blink—the last few being from both my Mom and Dad’s phones just hours ago. My pulse leaps. I’ve been so stupid. Maybe for some reason my Dad had been returning my calls to this phone instead of the one I’d called from. Why hadn’t I thought to check it?
Manipulating through the screens until I’m listening to a ringtone, I wait. Realizing I’m holding my breath, I let it out, draw in another, and end up holding that one.
Get a grip. It’s the parents. The greatest parents who ever existed. And I can say that with surety. It’s going to be fine. However this begins, the ending will be fine.
Chapter 47
Phone Screens and Dreams
The alarm interrupted one of those great dreams. Jack’s broad shoulders blocking whatever exotic setting the dream began in and was soon forgotten… the chocolaty sweetness of his eyes flaming with fiery desire… the heat of his hips clenched between her thighs… and that gargantuan rock-star dick, stretching her to the max, pounding her sweet spot again and again…
With a groan of protest, she tried to hold onto the dream while groping for her phone. Don’t let it slip away, just turn off the alarm, and slip back into it. Better yet, it wasn’t as if he was on one of his mini tours. All she had to do was turn over and…
Find herself in a hospital room.
Jack was stirring in the bed. Quickly she grabbed the phone to silence it and almost dropped it in excitement when she saw the screen. It wasn’t her alarm. It was her ring.
“Jack! It’s J.J.!” She rushed the words as she slid the answer icon, afraid she’d already waited too long, and afraid they’d be playing phone tag again.
“Tristan?” When she wasn’t greeted with a call-ended tone, she automatically breathed the name she’d given him at birth. Before it had evolved to T.J. for Tristan Jack, and later Jack Junior with J.J. for short.
“Hi, Mom!”
His manner seemed equally steeped with excitement and wariness.
“Hey, J.J.!” She found herself standing, and she sent a look to Jack. His eyes were trained on her face. “How are you? I’ve missed you so much—” Clamping her teeth to the inside of her lip, she cut off her spurt of emotional words in case it was smothering. “I’m glad you called, honey.”
“Yeah. Me too. I’ve missed you guys. Where are you?”
“Where are we?” She couldn’t stop the incredulity of her question, but she tempered it by joking, “Where are you?”
“I’m at the house. Just got here. Barely made it past the gate police.”
“You’re at the house?” She repeated mainly for Jack’s benefit and fumbled until the phone speaker was on. Her heart warmed to hear him joking around. “Yeah. Well, you can’t blame ‘em. It’s been awhile since they saw you.”
“Yeah. So yeah, where are you guys? Is Dad on a tour or something?”
“We’re…” She didn’t miss the sudden bore of Jack’s eyes. “We had a thing come up. I won’t bore you with the details. But we’ll be home in a couple of hours. Max.” She eyed the empty IV bag and knew there’d be no keeping Jack here now that the first dose of beta-blockers was complete and the rest could be taken orally. “The girls are at Pop Pop and Ju Ju’s. I’ll call and tell them to keep June home from school if she doesn’t have any tests.”
At this point, she realized tears were running in streams down her face. Jack held out his hand, and she moved close, putting hers in it, and listening as he struck up a conversation with J.J.
Chapter 48
Confessions
“So I understand you have some news for us.” My dad opens the subject of the band.
“Yeah. Dad, I tried to call you. Because it all happened so fast. And it just seemed weird. You know? But I guess it was only moving so quickly because of the casting deal. See the lady, Emily Dodge, is also a music supervisor. She wants us for casting in that show Virtual Passe. You’ve heard of it, right? The one with those two ditzy chicks who are always getting in trouble.”
“You’re cast in a tv show?” My mom sounds in.
“The band is. We don’t have speaking parts. But we’ll play some songs in the background of a few scenes. And they’ll use our tracks.”
“What show is this?” my dad asks, and I explain again. When they both remain quiet, I recap. “When I called you, something just smelled off about the whole thing. But it kind of makes sense now. I guess I was paranoid. Because with the show being part of the pie, things just naturally moved faster. We’re supposed to be on set four weeks from tomorrow.”
My head feels weighty as I think of seeing Sash again.
Of it being so long until then.
Of it being so soon until then.
How were we going to do this?
Chapter 49
Break The Fast
The previous day, Jack’s doctor had said he’d see them in the morning. Marissa wasn’t sure if seven a.m. patient rounds were normal for him, or if Jack’s voicemail to his cell had him showing up that early. Yes, it’s something she’d become accustomed to a while back. Lorens had private cell num
bers to their physicians and attorneys, and anyone representing the family in any way.
“J.J. doesn’t need to know about this hospital thing.” Jack told her, as if he hadn’t said it one way or another six or seven times already.
She drove to the house, making two stops along the way. One at the pharmacy for his prescriptions, which he tucked away into the depths of her purse. Another at a breakfast franchise restaurant where she’d called in an order to go.
As she slowed the car long enough for the gate to roll open, the security guard popped out of his shack. “Mrs. Loren. Just a heads up. A young man on a motorcycle came through this morning. I understand he’s your son?”
“Yes, I’ve spoken to him. Thank you.”
They exchanged good day pleasantries, and she gassed the car, anxious to get home.
“A motorcycle?” She questioned to Jack and took her eyes from the road long enough to see his brows drawn in a deep frown.
“Appears so.”
She noticed the bike in the driveway right when he spoke and thanked the heavens she hadn’t known her baby was sowing his wild oats with a motorcycle as his mode of transportation.
“Mariss?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sure he knows that the Emily now, is the Emma from then. Let’s hold off on telling him right now.”
She nodded her agreement, all too happy for now to try and forget anything except their son being home.
The garage door had barely finished rising when their son burst from the house.
The lighting in the garage was bright enough that she took in the tired circles beneath his eyes. The same bluish tinged hollows Jack always got when stressed.
Yet in a direct contradiction to the fatigued look was the bit of weight and brawn to his physique and the surety in his step. She stepped from the car into his arms, and he folded her tightly against his chest.